Contemplatives in Conversation on Cinema

In his 1964 film The Gospel According to St. Matthew, the Italian filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini reimagined Jesus in a way that was both modern and groundbreaking. In describing the film as “the life of Christ plus 2,000 years of storytelling about the life of Christ,” Pasolini asserted that our knowledge of Christ’s life is always already mediated by images. On October 28, 2021, I met with Michael Maciel on Zoom to discuss how the film’s cinematic language relates to a mystical understanding of Jesus. 

Michael Maciel is an ordained priest and master teacher in the Holy Order of MANS, a Christian mystical order headquartered in Corte Madera, California. Michael is the author of two books, The Five Vows and World Priest, and teaches regular classes online on the mystical interpretation of the Bible.

The following is based on our conversation.

Arthur Aghajanian: Attending church and Sunday school growing up, our only Jesus was the one created in the image of white Europeans—a long tradition out of which came the most widely-reproduced picture, Warner Sallman’s 1940 painting “Head of Christ.” But this standard image wasn't one I could relate to as I got older. 

Now my image of Jesus is that of a radical disrupter. I think as we mature spiritually, our image of Jesus changes. I think of him today as a teacher who challenges me on the path of self-realization. 

Michael Maciel: At age twenty, I entered a mystical order, and I underwent some very strenuous spiritual training, and also got to know other spiritual leaders that were affiliated with our order. It changed my understanding of Jesus. Because if I'm in the presence of a living master, then I think, well, this is a better representation of Jesus than anything I see in popular culture or in classical literature or art.

AA: Pasolini’s film The Gospel According to St. Matthew presented Jesus in a uniquely modern way. Pasolini was an atheist, and his film didn’t glorify or sentimentalize the story of Jesus. It was made in the Italian Neorealist style, with non-professional actors and filmed on location. It unfolds like a low-budget documentary. The film’s emphasis is on Jesus’s teachings. In fact, its sparse dialogue is taken directly from the Gospel of Matthew.

In Pasolini’s film, Jesus’s words and actions reflect those of a modern revolutionary. The film adheres to a materialistic realism that speaks with a certain urgency. Pasolini stated that the film was “a reaction against the conformity of Marxism,” which he believed ignored the mystery of religion.

The miracles are underplayed, and the film presents an authentic statement about human dignity and the corruptive nature of power.

This Jesus is different from stereotypical portrayals both physically and in his aggressive, confrontational manner. And his social and political position are shown for what they were—a threat to the established order.

MM: I always have to laugh when people argue over whether Jesus ever got angry, and then they always bring up the event at the temple where he’s overturning tables. And it's like, “you’ve got to be kidding me.” And that's what I love about Pasolini. His rendition is so much more accurate. If you even just read the text where he's calling these people in authority snakes, vipers, hypocrites. He's just on a rant most of the time when he addresses those people. And I thought this actor really captures that.  

AA: Pasolini said he doesn’t choose actors as “interpreters.” He didn’t want them to transform themselves, but to simply be who they were.

MM: The real message seems to be an exaltation of the poor and the people at the bottom without status. Human beings are not disposable. Each and every person, regardless of their status, is on Jacob's Ladder. And you don't know where they've been or where they're going to.

AA: Pasolini trains his camera on the faces of ordinary people, sustaining shots for long periods of time so that something essential begins to arise. The actors aren’t speaking much of the time, but as the camera lingers on them, individual portraits emerge. Each of these people is exalted by the film’s grammar, elevated to mythic status.

The film was shot mostly in and around the poor, southern Italian city of Matera. The cast were mostly local workers but included some known intellectuals. Pasolini’s mother, Susanna, played the role of the elderly Mary.

MM: I fell in love with every single one of those people. They were just so immediate and so up close and personal. The thing that struck me the most about them was their complete lack of cynicism. It's as though these people were so deeply religious that for them to play these parts was the honor of their life.

AA: They were so distinct, and yet mostly unknown. The man who played Jesus was Enrique Irazoqui, a Spanish economics student who had never acted before. Pasolini said he gave very little direction to any of his actors. He chose them based on the essence he felt they exuded. 

It’s difficult to make a film about what’s essential to Jesus because film artifice creates dramatic distance and actors who play Jesus don’t often feel human. Knowing the intimacy of Jesus means closing that distance and realizing the unitive consciousness that we share through Christ.

This film was different in that way too. As opposed to putting Jesus on a stage where we watch events unfold, we’re placed in the story as participants. One of the most striking instances of this is during the trial of Jesus, where we don’t see the actors’ mouths moving. A long shot places us behind a crowd of people, shuffling around for a better view.

There's another powerful moment where Jesus is speaking to his disciples, and we become one of them. We're following him through the city as he turns and addresses the group while walking. A shaky camera films him from behind. There are many ways the film brings Jesus closer to us and the story up to date.

I think a mystical understanding of the Jesus story provides greater opportunity for an imaginative representation. One that runs counter to the stereotypical image of Jesus. We need more nuanced images of him to accompany our spiritual journey. I think images that complicate the ones we grew up with are a good thing.

MM: So much of our relationship with Jesus is deeply psychological. It's a projection of our childlike relationship with our parents. And I think where the church has really gone off the rails is that they have equated Jesus with God in a naive and unsophisticated way. You can see this in all the renditions and all the movies of Jesus. We're not dealing with a man; we're dealing with God. That makes it unrealistic in a way that I think does more harm than good.

Because when we look at Jesus Christ from a mystical standpoint, Jesus is the human being, and Christ is the divine within the human being. And Jesus is every person who's ever lived or will live or is alive today. And Christ is that indwelling Spirit of God that animates and enlivens and enlightens every single human being, which is what makes each person divine, because you can say that there is a spark of divinity in every person. That's a much more sophisticated view of Jesus because we're not just looking at Jesus, we're looking at us.

AA: And if you're uncomfortable with a representation of Jesus, that’s an opportunity to question what you’re clinging to. Why does Jesus have to look and act a certain way to be acceptable to you? Dependence on a specific image may suggest you're caught up in the persona, rather than the message. It’s a problem when worship of Jesus becomes more important than a commitment to his teachings. It’s a lot different when we see Christ in oneself and in others, as the indwelling Spirit pervading all forms.

MM: This worship of Christ is an externalization of an inner reality that can be easily corrupted. What we're looking at when we want to worship Jesus is this innate understanding that there is something sacred within us that is trying to be born. And it is so precious and so holy that it's beyond our comprehension. And yet we know it's real. And so, we are protective of it. We want to nurture it, and we want it to come forth in its full flower of maturity, to be a presence and an effective agent in the world for good. I think this is what leads us to put Jesus up on a pedestal.

We are expressions of God. We are God expressing through an individual form. That's what leads us to want to worship, but without that understanding, without that mystical connection, then it goes sideways.

AA: Jesus is concerned with the poor and destitute, and how we should reach out to those less fortunate. In the film, Jesus is an activist who seeks to change the world. There are several minutes where he speaks directly and forcefully to the camera. Like a war protester, he seems to shout his message. He’s addressing us and our times, telling us we should be listening.

The film also has a timeless quality to it, which has partly to do with the way Pasolini borrowed from different sources for his imagery and soundtrack. He realized that our knowledge of Jesus’s life comes to us through the history of art.

MM: The message that he's putting across is that regardless of status, all people are divine, and all people are of infinite value. In that way, I find Pasolini’s take on it very humanistic, very socialistic. And you're right that this is so relevant for today because what we're dealing with today (this movie was made four years after Eisenhower made that famous statement about the military industrial complex), is the formation of an oligarchy.

The whole message of the film is deeply political and ultimately practical. That regardless of status, all people are valuable. And if you let the gap between those without and those with everything get too large, you destabilize the culture, the state, and the society. You destabilize everything. All of the world's revolutions have been a result of that gap getting so large that there's a disconnect, and it destroys the society and then the society destroys the oligarchy. And I think that's where we are—just approaching the edge of that precipice today.

AA: In this film, the Gospel is presented as a radical new way of life. It's a promise of change and new possibilities. Pasolini elevates the ordinary person. Everyone is equally deserving of opportunity, as well as love and forgiveness.

For me, the mystical vision of Christ is present in the matter-of-fact handling of the miraculous. And let's not forget, there’s a lot of stillness in the film—simple cuts and dissolves for transitions. Reality is tangible. We're not expected to suspend our judgment and worship, but to ask ourselves whether we’re willing to take on the challenges Jesus presents.

MM: Especially in this film, it just seems so stark to me that Jesus's role with the people is dramatically different from his role with the hierarchy. He's guiding, he's healing, he's feeding them. He's basically taking care of them because they're poor, and they're struggling, and they're in a bad way. He's attacking the authorities for their hypocrisy and their failure to take care of the people. It's not like the economic status of people is the defining feature. It's the hypocrisy and the struggle. It's this failure of society to function properly.

AA: For me, The Gospel According to St. Matthew cuts through clichés of holiness. Its message is: surrender to God. Here! Now!

Arthur Aghajanian is a Christian contemplative, essayist, and educator. His work explores visual culture through a spiritual lens.